ot four miles from here."

Margaret, much startled, answered that she did not know that she
possessed an aunt at all.

"You do indeed, then," Eleanor said. "Wrexley Park is the name of her
house; she was your father's sister, and she is now Lady Strangways."

Margaret's grave hazel eyes were opened to their fullest width.

"Are you sure that you are not making a mistake, Eleanor," she said, "or
that you are not joking? I never heard before that I had an aunt or any
relations at all except a grandfather."

"No, I am not making a mistake, nor am I joking," returned Eleanor.
"Truth to say, it is no joking matter, for Lady Strangways has expressed
a wish to see her niece, and is coming here this very afternoon for that
purpose. Can you not tell me something about her?"

"How can I tell you anything when I never heard that she was my aunt
until this very minute?"

"She was your father's youngest sister, however," continued Eleanor; "but
she married very young, and has been out of England for years and years.
Her husband was in the Indian Civil, and they were out in India most of
their time, and when he was on leave he preferred to travel in other
countries instead of coming home, or when he did come he paid such flying
visits, that it gave Lady Strangways no time to look up unknown nieces,
at any rate. But Sir Richard retired a couple of years ago, and bought
Wrexley Park."

"Yes, but surely if she was really my aunt, my grandfather would have
told me about her," said Margaret, "and wished me to know her."

"Not he," said Eleanor. "Mrs. Murray was talking about your grandfather
last night. Oh, of course she did not say anything that was not fitting
for a dutiful granddaughter to hear, but she did give me to understand
that your grandfather was a very prejudiced man, and that he had
purposely kept you away from all your father's relations. On your
mother's side I understand you have none. And for the matter of that all
your father's relations except this sister are dead. His two brothers
died unmarried, and his elder sister, who is dead too, left no children.
And there is only this Lady Strangways left. And she has been out of
England so long, that she knew nothing of your grandfather's desire to
keep you apart from your father's family."

"But how did she learn that you, that I, well, that her niece was staying
with Mrs. Murray?"

"Through Mrs. Murray herself, of course, goosey gander. Mrs. Murray
always knew sh